The City in The Sky

Chapter 1: Runaway Prisoners and Pirates

    The air was dry and cold as she ran through the streets, burning her throat and lungs. The cracked pavement bit into her bare feet, but the wet ground was relief on her already blistering feet. She didn't know where she was going - she just knew she had to get away. She randomly turned at each street, going down one twisted ally, turning back to throw off persuers, then running down into the sewers. She ran until she was sure she'd lost them, and then she ran some more.
    She leaned against a brick building, panting to catch her breath. It was only when she ran a hand across her brow to wipe her sweat that she realized she was bleeding. She must've gotten hit on the head at some point. She sighed, knowing that she'd have to get food and water before she left town as well.
    She looked around: she realized she was in the poorer section of the city; the houses were squat and leaning with age - most of them had a window or two missing, with sheets or wood placed there instead. She glimpsed a child covered in mud rummaging through garbage - but they scattered at the sound of something banging two houses down. Moments later, a woman limped out, her cane at the ready to - she assumed - smack the child away from her garbage. She idly wondered why the woman cared if the child was going through her garbage. It was, after all, just garbage. Whatever, she had her own issues to worry about.
    Stealing from a family in this neighborhood was the last thing she wanted to do, but she didn't have the time or luxury to steal from some rich family. So, she picked the only house in the neighborhood that had a vehicle (A beat-up motorcycle) and snuck around, looking for the window into the kitchen. Luckily, it was on the side of the house, so she couldn't be seen easily in the dark. She used her stolen knife to unlock the window, and crept inside.
    Once she was in, she breathed a sigh of relief. It was warmer inside, and hopefully she would have a few minutes to breath. She would look around later for clean clothes and bandages, but for now she needed food. She opened a random cupboard, and grabbed the first thing she saw - nutella. She smiled at seeing it, having been unable to have any for a long time. She sat on the ground, happily eating scoop after scoop with her cold fingers.
    She was maybe halfway through the jar, when suddenly the light was switched on. She jumped up, heart racing, surprised but ready to fight, her knife out. The young man looked as surprised as she was, and raised his hands peacefully. "Um... hello... I'm - who are you?"
    She relaxed a little, after realizing this man was not a threat. "I'm Cassie," she said nonchalantly, as if she was not still holding a knife and had not broken in.
    "Ok," the man said as he looked her over, from her bloody face, to the knife in one hand and the nutella in the other, to her bright red jumpsuit, to her bare feet. "So, I'm assuming you broke in?"
    "No," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "Your houseghost invited me in."
    "Right. So, judging by your jumpsuit, I suppose my houseghost also helped you escape from prison as well?"
    "Yes." She waited. He would get some sort of reward for turning her in, she was sure. Her grip on her knife tightened.
     He noticed, but simply scratched his chin, and said "I don't know how clean your handsare, so you can have to rest of that nutella. I don't want any other unwanted guests, so leave soon, please."
     She blinked. "What?"
     "You're far from the first runaway that's broken into my home. I don't know why I bother with locks anymore."
     "Oh," she simply said, but she was far from relaxed.
     The man sighed. "Look, I'll get you some clothes and bag and a small amount of money. After I get you that, will you please leave?"
     She nodded, but followed the man around as he went into what must've been a guest bedroom, and watched as he grabbed a bag and threw a few extra sets of clothes into it, leaving aside one set for her to put on. He made a move to leave, but she made a move to stop him - the moment she let him out of her sight, he would turn her in. She knew it.
     He sighed. "Look, if I wanted to turn you in, I would've done it a long time ago. And if you want to be able to run far enough away, you're gonna have to put some trust into a few people to help you escape."
     "Are you a runaway as well?" She asked, lifting an eyebrow.
     "I'm gonna put some food in here, okay?" was his response. She watched him until he left, the door closing behind him. She still wasn't sure she could trust him, but she was sure to be gone before any Enforcers could be here. So, she quickly slipped out of her thin jumper, and put on the clothes - clean undergarments, a nice, thick sweater, wool socks, and cotton-layered cargo pants. She left the room and entered the kitchen - the man was putting a couple of bottled waters into her backpack. He looked up, and remarked, "feeling better?" She had to admit, she actually did. She missed wearing socks. But she didn't say anything out loud. She reached for the backpack, and realized there was a coat and a hat laying next to it.
     "There's gloves in the pockets, and a pair of boots by the door. But before you leave, I think you should let me take care of that wound on your head."
     "Are there bandages in the bag?" she asked, antsy to leave. Plus she didn't want him getting a close look at her head.
     "Yeah, there's a whole first aid kit in there. But you'd look suspicious walking around with a bloody face." He had a point there. But then she saw paper towel by the sink, and walked for it, grabbed a few sheets, and got it wet. She heard the man leave, but he returned a moment later with a handheld mirror. "Thanks," she grumbled as she eyed the cut on her forehead, brushing her hair away from her face before dabbing the blood away. When it was gone, she set the mirror and paper towel on the counter, and grabbed the hat and coat. She grabbed the mirror again, and positioned her hair to hide the cut, and the hat to hide the abnormalities on her head. Then she put the mirror down, grabbed the backpack, and went down the hall towards the front door, with the man following her. After putting on the boots, she turned towards the man. He was holding out an apple, a granola bar, and a thermos. "A meal to-go," he said. She took the granola bar and the apple, put them into her pockets. Then she grabbed the thermos, opened it, and saw the familiar orange color of tomato soup.
     "I hope the boots fit. They looked to be about your size."
     "They're a bit big, but better than too small." she muttered. Looked up, and saw his earnest and trusting smile. If no Enforcers followed her within an hour, she decided she could trust him. "Thank you," she said.
     "No problem. And if for any reason you come back, my name is Jethro. You know where to find me in the future." She took in his short and heavily muscular figure, the brown eyes and dark red hair and freckled face, hoping that if she had to, she could come to him for help in the future. As he held out his hand, she shook it, unsurprised to feel that it was heavily callused.
     "Good-bye," she said, and then opened the door, feeling a gust of wind bite at her face.
     "Head north, to the port cities. The best way to get there without getting caught is to walk. I would guess it's about three or four days from here." She nodded in appreciation.   "Good-bye, and good luck," he finished. She stepped outside, and after hearing the door close, she headed north, passing the house from where she saw the woman with a cane earlier. As she passed the alley, she saw the child, now covered in blood and bruises as well as dirt, shaking from the cold. She knelt down, and gave him her apple and granola bar. After a moment, she also opened her backpack, and after rummaging past the food, she saw that the man - Jethro - had left money like he said he would, but also a first aid kit (out of which she grabbed a few bandages), a second knife, rope, some pads and tampons and some other body products, a set of matches, a compass, a map, a sleeping bag, a blanket, a small pillow, and even a set of silverware. She was so glad she broke into that house rather than a different one. After taking out a sweater, she put that and the bandages next to the child. "Stay alive, kid," she muttered before walking away, opening the thermos.
     She walked until the sun rose, all through the day, with a short break at noon (she had also found a watch in one of the pockets in her pants) to eat a cold can of ravioli, and then until the sun set. By then, she had left the city with little trouble, past several farms, and was now in the wilderness in between cities. She'd looked at the map and decided that walking through the woods would be more direct than taking the road. More convenient, anyways. Less chance of getting caught and thrown back into jail.
The first day walking brought suprisingly good weather - it was sunny, hot enough for her to take of her coat. That night she didn't bother starting a fire, so she found a dry spot to sleep, laid down the sleeping bag and blanket and pillow, and went straight to sleep, exhausted after not getting a wink of sleep in over a day.
     Five days later, she reentered civilization, and was glad she arrived as the sun was setting. She had the hat, but she wished she had a scarf to hide her face and hair as well. She attempted to hide her noticably green hair with her hood, but the wind was strong and kept blowing her hood off. Thankfully, no one seemed to look twice in her direction.
     It took her two hours to find a ship and a captain that was willing to take her aboard for a small price - with food and board. The captain told her to come back in the morning at sunrise, so she went into the woods in the outkirts of town, and set up camp for a few hours. She'd go back into town an hour before sunrise, see what stores were open, and see what supplies she could get with the money she had on hand.
     The next day, she boarded the ship with a scarf covering her face, a few books (hey, she'd be bored) a notebook, some black hair dye, some pens, and a few more maps.
     She was relieved to finally have a bed and hot food every day for at least a few weeks, and she even had a room to herself to relax in. Add to that, the fact that she would be on international waters should protect her from any possible persuers. Things were starting to settle.
     But she was not ready to let her gaurd down. For all she knew, the captain had been tipped off and would simply bring her to the next city and turn her in. Or maybe one of the passengers would recognize her as a runaway and report her at the next stop. Or maybe they would have an unfortunate run-in with pirates. There were several ways things could go wrong, and having been in prison for a long time with not much knowledge of what was going on in the outside world, she felt lost. Before, she'd had connections, and had been close to locating the last two people in the world who mattered to her. But now, it was likely those connections were long dead, possibly even her lost family.